LIGHTNOVELONLINE No Samurai 1
I sat on my couch and tried to think about dying. Tonight was the big night, an exorcism in Chinatown and my first real taste of supernatural horror. Any reasonable man would have been worried. Actually, no reasonable man would find himself in this position. After all, I had no idea what I was in for or how to fight a ghost, and the only expert opinion I’d received thus far had told me I was going to die. It was almost like this was a really, really bad idea.
A Taiwanese zombie action film played on my TV. It was strictly a comfort watch at this point for me, having exhausted any of the frights over repeated viewings. I loved the fight choreography and the cinematography though, and I learned or noticed something new each time. Alan would have preferred a quiet room or soft instrumentals to ponder to, but it worked differently for me now. I felt like I needed the ‘background noise’ of combat to occupy my mind enough to let me think freely. It was like there was this eager bird of prey in the back of my mind, watchful, ever watchful, and so, so hungry. If I didn’t keep it satisfied, it would grow bored and start flapping inside the cage that was my skull, battering my poor, defenseless human brain for attention.
Less than a week in this world and I already considered myself as much James as I did Alan. It wouldn’t be long until I was a new man born from the synthesis of both, a process I was strictly in favor of. Neither of my two halves could survive the circumstances and situations sure to come on their own. James was bold and courageous, but was reckless and lived his life primarily by vibes. Alan was thorough and patient, but was gun-shy about big changes. Like Yin and Yang, only when I could reconcile both halves of me would I be whole.
What were my friends like now, as their personalities merged with their characters? Victor basically played himself as a wizard in every game, presumably he would be relatively unadjusted. And Mars would surely have been a motorcycle riding shaman in the other world if it had been a real possibility, so I expected she would mostly be herself with certain personality traits turned up to eleven. But could Ted’s eternal affability survive extended contact with Ryuukai, the dystopic corporate hellscape? Could his marriage to the extremely reserved Cici survive now that she was a seductress and assassin, off in an edgy anime version of Japan?
Nasim had it the worst. I was confident in Nasim’s ability to survive long enough to be rescued. He was a clever and resourceful man, funny and kind too – someone I was proud to call a friend. If I had to bet on Nasim’s ability to navigate a society of blood sorcerers and ritual sacrifice in a lost Mayan city, I’d take the bet every time. But his character, Tor was a miserable fucking bastard. Nasim, who as a semi-practicing Muslim didn’t drink or gamble, was now stuck in the body of an alcoholic, anti-social, berserker who was haunted by his decision to betray his country over greed. Tor Knudson was living on borrowed time long before our game/reality show got started. If he managed to survive the Mayans, then whatever amalgamation of Tor and Nasim that came out the other side was bound to be a mess.
A large part of me wanted to rush off to Mexico, Japan, or Ryuukai. I was pretty sure that if I injected myself into any of those places, some questline would inevitably intersect with a party member’s. But it was better for the group as a whole to have a single visible and obvious point for them to navigate by than to risk us accidentally passing each other like ships in the night.
Becoming that lighthouse meant more than winning a single martial arts tournament. Fighting and combat sports were huge here, yes, but with that popularity came a more crowded field. The Black Harbor Martial Arts Tournament was one of the most prestigious and its winners were some of the most highly recognized fighters in the world. But if I wanted to guarantee my name penetrated even the far corners of this world, I would have to become a literal living legend. I needed to stand above the rest.
Yesterday’s spar had been eye-opening in that regard. Kas had schooled me quite badly, though I wasn’t too put out by the results. My opponent had thirty-plus years of experience on me and was specialized for one-on-one, no-nonsense fighting, whereas I was an environmental fighter on a flat plane with no distractions. But still, in a little over a month I needed to be at a level where I could comfortably stand my ground against someone like him. Most of my opponents were going to be professional or aspiring professional tournament fighters, not adventurers who happened to need the win like me. If I wanted to be able to beat specialists at their own game in a month, I needed to keep up my current insane pace, to keep pushing myself past my limits, throwing myself into danger, even, no, especially if it seemed like a terrible idea.
“And that’s why,” I said to the empty room, two fingers on each of my temples, “if you think about it, this ghost hunt is, actually, a great idea.”
I leapt up and pumped my fist, having cleared the last of my doubts. “Yes! I knew I could get there in the end.” Hands on my hips I looked around my empty basement apartment smugly. “All things considered, arbitrarily deciding to inject myself into Maki’s ghost situation was both proactive and, I would argue, incredibly responsible of me – neighborly even. I’m practically Chinese Spider-Man over here.”
Huo Laoshi picked me up from my apartment at around 4:30 in his cab. He was dressed in a formal grey kimono and haori jacket, though he still wore his ever present flat wool cap.
I hurried into the front seat. It was another rainy afternoon in Black Harbor. “Looking good, Huo Laoshi. Making me feel underdressed.”
“Your whole generation is underdressed. In my day, it used to be people only wore sports clothing to exercise. Now young men spend all day in their sweatpants. And young women! Don’t get me started; practically naked in those skintight stretchy pants. And it’s ‘Sensei’ today, James. We’ll be doing Japanese calligraphy. Don’t worry, you’ll adapt quickly. How are you with traditional Hanzi?”
I laughed. “I don’t think you’re old enough for that to be true, Huo Sensei.” I switched over to Japanese. “And I’ll be alright. My Japanese is pretty good, right? I taught myself over the weekend.”
He squinted at me through his thick square glasses. “Eh?! What the hell? It’s better than mine. What do you mean you taught yourself over the weekend?”
Learning new languages after character creation in the game was as simple as buying the appropriate Linguistics skill Dice, 3 for conversational, 4 for fluency, 5 to be indistinguishable from a native. Since I was hoping to walk through a Shinto seat of power later without getting cursed on accident, I thought it was wise to invest 30 Experience total to get to 3 Dice in Linguistics (Japanese). Plus, it was the perfect level of proficiency to sell my presence there in the first place to Maki’s parents. I wasn’t a Youxia from Chinatown there to help their daughter with her vendetta, I was just a friend of Huo’s who was trying to improve his Japanese to full fluency.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” I lied. “It’s something I’ve been working on for a while. There are lots of cool old martial arts manuals at the Little Tokyo flea market if you can read Japanese.”
“Ah, yes,” he nodded approvingly. “I’d call your reason strange, but I’m sure others would say the same about learning Japanese for the calligraphy. It’s good that you’re learning other languages though, very sensible. And polite too; you should see the way people smile when their cab driver speaks the same language as them. Everyone likes to feel heard.”
The drive to the Shinto shrine in Little Tokyo was pleasant if plagued by traffic. We were headed there during rush hour and the city’s semi-recent commitment to walkability meant there were fewer shortcuts for Huo to snake through. I didn’t mind, and enjoyed shooting the shit with my old calligraphy teacher.
I was as ready for tonight as I could be, with my resolve affirmed and over 400 Experience in reserve. My only major outstanding responsibility, Annie, was relatively taken care of. We had dual cultivated around lunch and sneaked in a training and filming session before she had to go to work. She’d left my place with 5 Dice in Martial Arts. Even if I died tonight, Annie would have the firm foundation needed to become a great fighter. She didn’t have any of the feats that formed the core of my style unfortunately, but hey, it was the best I could do. I’d also left an envelope addressed to my mother on my kitchen counter with a request for her to train Annie. With luck, it would go unopened.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Huo Sensei, would you mind not mentioning anything about Bell St. in Chinatown the other night when we get in there?” I asked when we got near our destination.
“Sure, sure,” he said, waving it off.
I paused, having expected him to at least ask why. He seemed to sense my reaction and followed up with, “I’ve been a cab driver in this city for thirty-five years, James. You aren’t the first youxia I’ve driven around.”
“Ah, thanks.”
“You’re the only one who is still alive though.”
“Ah, thanks,” I repeated in a drier tone.
He patted my leg amiably, eyes still on the road. “It’s sad for old men like me to see the youth throw their lives away, so make sure you survive. Okay?”
“Ha. I’ll try – for you, Huo Laoshi.”
He sipped his teeth. “Could be firmer than that, boy. At least try to make me believe it.”
I smiled. “Sometimes a man’s got to die for what he believes. There’s no tragedy in that.”
He chuckled. “So manly. I’m glad I don’t have daughters. You’d break their poor hearts. Well, you better give me a call if you need a ride. Or else I won’t forgive your ghost.”
“I’ll keep you on speed dial.”
Black Harbor’s sole Shinto shrine was in a former turn-of-the-century water treatment facility that had long since been renovated and retrofitted with modern conveniences. The frame of it was still a brick and concrete bunker though, meant to survive potential explosions from the dangerous quantities of chemicals it once housed. There were few windows and intimidating iron-spiked metal gates barring its wide alleyway to its side.
They had modified its entrance considerably. The building was not far back from the sidewalk, so in order to create a proper entranceway, they had taken down the doors and turned part of the foyer into a space open to the world with a tall, vaulted ceiling and a torii gate in front of it. Two large stone dog statues guarded either side of it. The ground around and beyond the gate was covered in smooth stones, meant to purify the visitors as they walked on them, if I recalled correctly. The new doorway into the building was partially open. It looked like they had imported authentic Japanese doors. To one side of the entrance was a trough with moving water, and to the other was a metal lattice to which people had tied off their bad luck fortunes to.
The wooden charms hanging from the torii gate occasionally tinked off each other lightly with the breeze as we approached. Little Tokyo was on the forefront of the city’s push to become pedestrianized, so we’d parked in one of the new parking garages that ringed its borders and walked in.
Huo stopped me before we walked under the torii. “Have you ever been here before, or another shrine, James?”
“No. Wanted to, always thought it looked cool.”
“It’s super cool. They did a great job. But there’s a proper way about entering to be respectful. It’s important to show respect; we’re guests here. First, we bow before passing through the gate, next, we always pass through the side of the gate. The middle is where the kami walk.”
I watched Huo and diligently followed along. With the knowledge that kami were real in this world, and the confirmation that there were some residing in this building, I was on high alert. I bowed low and stepped through on the left of the gate, trying to communicate as much respect as possible with my body language.
My foot passed beneath the torii and a great, whooshing gust of wind bellowed forth from the open doors to the shrine. The charms above me clattered up a storm and Huo had to clutch his hat tight to his head to keep it from flying off. Then, quickly as it started, the wind died down. A strong and ominous feeling of being watched lingered.
Huo said nervously, “I think Kami-sama is excited to meet you, James. Come, next we purify ourselves.”
I mechanically followed along with Huo Laoshi’s instructions on how to use the ladle by the water trough to purify my hands and mouth, but my mind was elsewhere. I took a shot in the dark at extending my Qi into my senses, not even really sure where to begin. Carefully, I pushed my Qi into my eyes, ears, and nose, praying that I didn’t accidentally fry my sinuses before an important mission, and rolled an Aura + Perception to make an improvised maneuver.
A critical success as a result of the Silver Dollar in my wallet gave me seven Successes. The shrine began to brighten rapidly under my sight, until I had to squint to make out anything past the open doors at all. My nose and tongue were assaulted by a variety of strong odors, most of which tasted like nature, wet soil, and crystal clear mountain waters, but a few of which were truly rancid. The latter of which were almost, but not entirely, overpowered by the former.
“interesting…” whispered a dozen soft voices into my ears.
I let my Qi retract and returned to normal, shaking off the goosebumps that had crawled up my neck.
“Ey, you alright? Your eyes were glowing.” Huo had a hand on my forearm. I had raised it without realizing to shield my eyes from the light.
“Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“Huo Sensei!” A chipper voice from within the shrine cut off Huo’s response. A teen girl in a miko outfit waved. Our eyes met, and noticing me for the first time, she froze in her gesture, her eyes widening.
Huo gave my arm a reassuring squeeze before turning around. “Ah, Susy! So good to see you! This is one of my old students.” He gestured to me. “James Li. He’s an actor now. He was the chicken in that one funny commercial. What was that commercial for, James?”
“Theo’s Country Fried.”
“That’s the one! Awful food, huh?”
“God awful,” I agreed. “Fun commercial though.”
“A man in a chicken suit whooping ass is good-old fashioned comedy.” He nodded. “James, this is Susy Sunada. The Sunada and Ishida families have managed this shrine since its founding in 1928. Susy wants to be a singer. Do you think you could help her?”
“Haven’t quite broken into Hollywood yet, Huo Sensei.”
We walked into the building proper. The interior opened into a short hallway. Apart from the river stones on the ground, this section of the shrine had more of a community center look than something classically Japanese. The concrete walls were lined with art made by children in their various programs. Two cork boards were pinned full of flyers, business cards, schedules, and the like. One of the walls had tall windows exposing a Western looking office on the other side.
Susy was still frozen, arm in the air, her smile looking more pained. Seeing my eyes track to her raised arm, she snapped out of it, grabbing her arm and pinning it to her side. Her face turned a bright scarlet red. She mumbled a barely audible, “hi”.
Oh good, she was just crushing. I’d been worried that she’d noticed my Aura maneuver. I switched to Japanese. “Hello, nice to meet you. Would it be alright if I spoke Japanese? I’m trying to practice.”
The direct yes-or-no question did the trick and flipped her brain back on. “Yes, of course,” she responded in Japanese. “Wow, yours is pretty good too.”
“He’s impressive, no?” said Huo, switching over as well. “It’s not fair. Smart and handsome, he’s a villain, isn’t he, Susy-chan?”
I barked a genuine laugh. Susy giggled into her hand, the humor relaxing her a bit.
“I’m only doing it for dumbass reasons though.”
“It’s true. Be careful around him, Susy. He’s a fighting maniac. It’s his first time in the shrine though. You should show him how to make an offering. I’ll go upstairs and start getting the class ready.”
Susy froze once more, mouth open. She looked torn between excitement and terror at the thought of being alone with me.
A short, plump woman in a formal kimono rescued her by slipping out of the door to the office with a soft smile. We took one look at each other and in an instant and I knew that she could sense my superhuman Qi, and that she knew, that I knew, she could sense my Qi.
“Huo Sensei,” she said with a slight head bow, “it’s good to have you back again. Susy, please take Sensei up and make him some tea.”
“It’s always a pleasure to share the joy of calligraphy, Ishida-san. I hope you don’t mind I brought my old student, James. I used to tutor him and his sister when he was as small as my waist, you know. Look at him now, so tall!”
“I heard. You are of course welcome here. Everyone is welcome to our services, and even if that were not true, Huo Sensei is a beloved member of our community. We are happy to receive you. Come, let me show you to the bell.”
Her tone was that of a suggestion, perfectly polite and kind, but there was a quiet power in her voice and a sense of command about her. The other two, sensing they were dismissed, departed.
“Thanks,” I said earnestly. “I always wanted to come inside anytime I passed, but I didn’t want to intrude.”
“You should have. As long as they are respectful, all are invited. The Kami love offerings after all.”
“That’s good.” I hesitated, wondering if it was rude to bring up. “The wind when I entered was a little intimidating…”
She nodded understandingly. “Yes, I would apologize, but it isn’t my place. You did nothing wrong, nor was it our intent to scare you. As you walked under the torii, you passed from the mortal world into the sacred, and caught Kami-sama’s attention. That wind you felt was an aftereffect of so many of their eyes turning upon you at once.”
I rubbed the back of my head and chuckled nervously, slipping into my earnest meathead persona with ease to make a Charisma roll. Another seven Successes – an auspicious start to the night. “Haha, I think that makes me even more scared.”
She hid a conspiratorial smile behind her hand and patted my arm comfortingly. “That’s a sign of your intelligence, Li-san. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
“Please, Ishida-san, call me James. I’m a really laidback kind of guy.”
“Oh, is that so? I should introduce you to my daughter, Maki. She could use a friend like you in her life to calm her down a little. And please call me Ai, then.”
“Thanks, Ai-san. Are you sure she wouldn’t just find me frustrating?”
“Hmm, that might be good for her too, I think.”
We followed the stone path to the end of the hallway. Ai led me with a single hand on my elbow, a surprisingly informal gesture. I didn’t know enough about the woman to tell if it was a product of my good roll and my suite of social feats, or if that was her demeanor towards visitors in general. She was a community leader, I supposed.
I did a double take once we’d pushed past the double doors. It was like I’d stepped into an ancient Japanese courtyard. The stone path wove around Zen gardens, koi ponds, and little wooden buildings in the traditional style. There were even bamboo and Japanese maple trees growing from the ground, fed by the bright square lights in the tall ceiling above. Without a close examination, you could easily believe you were in a mountain forest in Japan.
“Wow,” I whispered, momentarily awestruck. In here, I truly felt like I’d entered another world. “Amazing.”
Maki’s mother smiled up at me and patted my hand. “Thank you. It was the work of many generations. Many families thought they’d left their Kami behind when they left the old country, but gods are not so easily abandoned, nor are they limited by mortal boundaries. We came together to build this place for them.”
“It’s beautiful. Please forgive me for any transgressions. I’m completely new to all of this.”
“Is that right? I find that hard to believe.” She gave me a look to remind me she knew of my awakened Qi.
“I understand but…” I conjured a miniscule smokeless flame in the palm of my hand, shaping it to look like a lotus flower before blowing it out. “This is all self-taught, I’m afraid, and an extremely recent development.”
She stopped in her tracks and furrowed her brow in disbelief. “I believe you, but are you saying your mother didn’t tell you anything about the Sacred World?”
“You know my mother?”
“We’ve met on rare occasion, but I can’t say that I know her well. I’m shocked that she wouldn’t prepare her son for the danger he would face though.”
“Hah, that’s my fault really. I decided to leave the school to start my own style, so it’s not really her responsibility anymore.”
She shook her head sadly and started leading me forward again. “You martial artists love to live hard lives, don’t you?”
“Yeah!” I made a fist and smiled broadly. “It’s the only way to get stronger!”
My response seemed to age the woman. She sighed, her eyes growing distant, her expression thoughtful. I could see the loss settle onto her shoulders, practically dragging her into the earth. I knew enough about older Asian women to know my words would do nothing, but I did take her hand from my elbow and held it. Ai seemed shocked at the gesture and the system immediately asked for a Charisma + Empathy roll from me. I did well enough that after a few seconds she squeezed my hand gratefully and kept walking.
Ai showed me the offering shrine with its bell and box for donations. We bowed once more at the torii in front of it.
“Your Japanese is quite good. Are you familiar with the concept of kotodama?” she asked when explaining the donation box.
I shook my head. “No, sorry.”
“It’s difficult to explain briefly. We Japanese tend to prescribe great power to words. You are, I’m sure, familiar with ‘kiai’, the shout of warriors. This is an example of kotodama in use. For now, I will only say that some words are lucky and some are unlucky, and therefore some donations are lucky and unlucky. Five yen, or five dollars in America, is the typical donation because the word five sounds similar to the word for good luck. Feel no obligation to donate, but I would avoid donating ten dollars, for the opposite reason.”
I put a fiver into the box, rung the bell, and followed along as Ai showed me how to do the traditional two bows, two claps, one bow form of worship. There was no noticeable change in sensations when I did so, but without physical contact I had no spiritual sense to speak of really, and didn’t want to risk another improvised maneuver. For now, I was assuming that me and the Kami here were all good, or at the very least, I wasn’t leaving with any curses.
Ai stopped me before we could leave the shrine’s interior courtyard, pulling me over to ostensibly take a look at the koi. I could tell she was working herself up to ask something. I let the small talk we’d been filling the space with die down and stood in amicable silence.
After a minute or two, she said, “James-san, I know this is very forward of me, but I must ask you something as a mother.”
Finally, I was wondering when my feat Can I Trouble You? was going to trigger. It had been almost a week.
“Of course. To ignore a mother’s earnest plea is against my martial Dao.”
“Is that so? This might be a headache for you.”
I waved her off. “It’s fine, really.”
She looked wistfully at my reflection in the pond, the activity of the koi disturbing it slightly. “My, my, it’s like he’s here with me again.” Turning to me directly she said, “James, my daughter has been very depressed these past few years. Do you think you could reach out to her during Huo Sensei’s class?”
“Is she pretty?” I blurted out. There was a long pause. Ai’s mouth dropped. “Kidding, kidding. Haha, sorry. I don’t do well with serious moods. Is that all? Of course, I’ll reach out. I love making new friends.”
The laughter started small, just a little chortle that she covered with her hand, but rose until she was clutching at her chest, laughing so hard that her eyes were watering. There were others in the courtyard with us, who turned to look at the scene.
“You are a good man,” she said, wiping away a tear with her sleeve. “Go upstairs now. And drive my daughter crazy, would you? It’ll be good for her heart.”